Winter is Coming, mental projection device, indigo, turquoise, Zdzisław Beksiński

A monolith of ice and steel sticks out of the snow-covered plain like a tooth in a glass of milk. The city, for it is a city, is a maze of cubes and edges stretching towards a sky as gray as an old lady's hair. Above the city, lightning dances like electric eels, and the wind screeches a melody so mournful that even a stone would cry. A lone figure wanders towards this icy metropolis, perhaps in search of warmth, perhaps in search of answers. But all he finds is an eternal winter and a city as dead as his own heart.